


Subtle

by Miso



Category: Kidding (TV 2018)
Genre: Fluff, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Short & Sweet, Spoilers, i mean i guess? anyone who's reading this probably knows what happens, only rated mature cause they sure do be naked, someones gotta make this mans feel loved goddammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24710647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: He wasn't fucking Mr. Pickles.He was fucking Jeff Piccirillo.There was a difference.
Relationships: Jeff Piccirillo/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Subtle

**Author's Note:**

> oopsie daisy i special interest'd another jim carrey work
> 
> someone needed to make jeff happy and since no one in the show was gonna do it heres oscar valentine. hes a chubby baker that wears glasses and tells a lot of dad jokes. yes his faceclaim is lee majdoub if he was chubby dont look at me like that i am now and forever stobotnik garbage at heart

Cardinal song, the faint warmth of sunlight through drawn blinds, quiet breathing and the shuffle of sheets under a figure turning over.

Oscar Valentine was a man of simple pleasures, and simple pleasures included sipping a cup of coffee on his mornings off. He cast a glance over his bedmate, smiling at the sight of him with the blankets drawn up to his collarbone, his dark hair a halo on the pillow, one arm across his chest and the other splayed beside him. Beautiful.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and after putting on his glasses, he picked it up quickly. A text from one of the managers of his bakery, hired to run the place when he wasn't there.

'soooooo kelly said she saw you out to dinner with mr. pickles at the refectory last night'

__A pause as Oscar wondered how to- or if he even should- respond, filled with a couple more messages from the same woman._ _

___'that's like, a super fancy date place'_  
_'oscar are you fucking mr. pickles.'_ _ _

__He couldn't help but chuckle. He ran a hand through his mop of dark wavy hair (god, it needed a trim), and fired back a quick response._ _

___'Wouldn't you like to know. ;)'_ _ _

__He set his phone down on the nightstand again and turned his attention to his bedmate again._ _

__He wasn't fucking Mr. Pickles._ _

__He was fucking Jeff Piccirillo._ _

__There was a difference._ _

__Everyone knew Mr. Pickles, the gentle and kind host of Mr. Pickles' Puppet Time, who traveled between the "real" world and the magical world of Pickle Barrel Falls via a bedsheet parachute attached to a pickle barrel, and helped teach the world's children lessons with the help of his various puppet friends. Mr. Pickles wasn't a sexual being. No sane person would consider him such._ _

__Jeff Piccirillo, on the other hand, not too many people knew. He was a recent divorcee and grieving father, a man driven to the very end of an already deeply-frayed rope, and the man that had tried to enter Valentine's Cakery after closing hours. Oscar didn't know what compelled him to go after him, when the tall, trembling man that had tried to enter the store walked off looking dejected. Just that something had._ _

__He'd brought him in out of the cold, pointedly ignored how he blushed and smiled and bit his lip whenever Oscar made a terrible joke, and given him some bacon and cheddar turnovers that hadn't sold, on the house, in exchange for an autograph for his little nephew. In the end, he spent an extra two hours conversing with Jeff, though it felt like it went by in an instant, and they exchanged numbers on the pretense of staying friends._ _

__Two months of text conversations and letters later, Jeff walked back into the store, and asked in a small, trembling voice if he could speak to Oscar in private. Over coffee and a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie a la mode, Jeff spilled his guts. He told him about everything; Phil's death, Will's acting out, the divorce, his relationship with his own father, his sister, her family issues driving a wedge between them when they'd always been glued at the hip, everything. Oscar answered it with a firm hug and a gentle reminder to Jeff; "You're always welcome here. If you need a friend, I'm here."_ _

__The next time Oscar saw him after that, he had cut his hair short, and he looked somewhere between unfathomably sad and like he'd had a weight lifted off his shoulders, and they sat in the closed bakery and talked- with no food and no coffee- until Jeff broke down into tears, his fists clenched white-knuckle and his shoulders absolutely shaking with sobs. "I feel so alone," he'd whispered, "and I can't fix it. I... I lost Jill, I lost Vivian, and... and since I met you, I-I don't even know who I am anymore."_ _

__Oscar blinked. "What?"_ _

__"I tried to be subtle about it but- but- the night we met, I..." Jeff took a deep, shuddering breath. "I've never... looked at another man... and thought he looked beautiful before." He went into detail, as much as he could through his tears; how Oscar, standing in the street light with his halo of dark curly hair and beautiful brown skin and those dark, dark eyes that still had so much kindness in them, had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. How the simple gesture of letting him in and giving him something to eat had been so much more than Jeff had been expecting with how his luck was going. How, every time he spoke, he thought of him more and more fondly, thought of him as an intelligent and talented man with a drive and passion and sense of purpose that Jeff himself sorely lacked these days._ _

__"And... sometimes... all I can think about is... is kissing you. I've never felt like this for a man before." Jeff swallowed hard and his reddened eyes gazed into Oscar's soul for a moment. "I'm scared."_ _

__A long pause._ _

__"I think this is normally where I'd offer to get you some water or tea to calm you down," Oscar said, laying his hands atop Jeff's still-clenched fists. He heard Jeff's breath catch in his throat, and then it quickened. "But I think you need something else right now."_ _

__He'd leaned over the table, and pressed their lips together._ _

__That was six months ago._ _

__Now, in October, Oscar gently stroked Jeff's cheek and brushed the pad of his thumb over his thin lips, smiling when the older man stirred, mumbled, and opened his eyes just a little. "Hey," he whispered. "Good morning, jellyroll." Jeff responded with a soft, drowsy chuckle, turning his face to press a gentle kiss to Oscar's palm. "How'd you sleep?"_ _

__"Mmmh. Alright, I guess..." Jeff rolled onto his side and reached out an arm sleepily. With a fond laugh, Oscar settled himself against the headboard of the bed (and tried his best to ignore the dents in the wall that he was quite sure weren't there when they fell into bed the night before), and Jeff wasted no time making himself at home. He sighed softly, like a content, comfortable dog, as he rested his head on Oscar's chest, his arm over the baker's round, warm belly (a little too much sampling of his own wares over the years)._ _

__"You're warm," Jeff mused idly, nuzzling into the crook of Oscar's neck. "Thank you... for last night."_ _

__"Honey-pie, you don't have to thank me every time we make love. You practically live here, Jeff, don't think you have to thank me."_ _

__"... I do have to thank you, though," Jeff said quietly. "I... everyone I've loved before... even my family... only one I never lost through everything is Dee Dee, and... sometimes... I wonder if she only puts up with me because I'm her brother." Oscar made a quiet noise of acknowledgement, carding his fingers through Jeff's hair. "Jill, Vivian, Phil, Mom, Dad... even Will... I don't think he'll ever look at me the same way again, after everything..."_ _

__"Well... I don't stay just because I have to, if you think that," Oscar breathed. "I stay because I like you."_ _

__"People don't usually like me when they get past the funny puppets and sweater vest."_ _

__"I do. I like your nose, and your eyes, and your smile, and those cute little dimples." In the dim morning light of the bedroom, Oscar swore he saw Jeff flush pink. "I like your soft hair- by the way, thanks for growing it out- and I like your voice... I like what a good father you are. I like what a good friend you are. I like Mr. Pickles, sure, but I like Jeff even more."_ _

__Jeff was quiet, apparently mulling over that statement in his head. One of his hands idly fidgeted with the lapis lazuli pendant of Oscar's necklace. He eventually let out a quiet sigh and pressed his face into the baker's neck. "I... I don't understand why," he said gently, "but... I appreciate it."_ _

__"I know, poundcake."_ _

__"Please don't call me that."_ _

__"Why?"_ _

__"We're naked in bed, for starters..."_ _

__Oscar couldn't help but chuckle. "What, makes you think of what we did last night?"_ _

__"... Yeah."_ _

__"Alright, alright... let me up, then, and I'll put some pants on and get breakfast started. You've got a long shooting day ahead of you, don't you?"_ _

__A pause, and a warm hand gripped Oscar's wrist as he moved to get out of bed._ _

__"They can't film the show without the host."_ _


End file.
